


Forever

by argyle4eva



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-17
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argyle4eva/pseuds/argyle4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes "forever" <i>is</i> possible, if in an unorthodox way. (Warnings for God!sex and gratuitous use of gender-free pronouns.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> While trawling the DW LJ kinkmeme, I stumbled across this (already-filled) prompt: ["DoctorDonna/Bad Wolf Rose/Tinkerbell Jesus Doctor".](http://community.livejournal.com/sizeofthatthing/1620.html?thread=2191956#t2191956) For whatever reason, that prompt got under my skin and I wrote the following. While I seem to recall one can post multiple stories under a prompt at the meme, I'm not 100% sure of that and I didn't want to seem disrespectful to the original prompt-filler ("No, not like that, like this!"), which is totally not my intent. I'm just booting a bunny out of my brain. Also, this things's freaking _huge_ for a kinkmeme fic and the actual porn is a teeny proportion of the whole, so it seemed more suitable to post it to my LJ and here (with all due credit going to the kinkmeme and prompt OP), just to do something with the big block of text (and my time) it represents. And, hell, I'm fond of it, weird as it is. :)

Even though the TARDIS was falling to pieces around her, rondels blowing out everywhere and the control room filling with sparks and flame, all Donna could hear was the hypnotic heartbeat that drew her like a siren's song to the bubbling container housing the Doctor's spare hand. Her fingers brushed the jar; she had a moment's sensation of smooth, cool, solid glass before golden fire jumped the gap from alien flesh to her own, racing up her arm and straight to her brain.

Everything went to blank, pure light, even brighter than the flames consuming the TARDIS. When the light faded, Donna was somewhere else.

Or was that _everywhere_ else?

With an effort of will that was like flexing muscles she'd never known she had, Donna reached out and forced the chaos around her to make some sort of sense. Reality rippled and then snapped flat, turning into a vast, smooth floor full of stars. It seemed like it was made two-dimensional, but it wasn't; dizzily, with something akin to dream-logic, Donna realized she was standing _on top_ of the universe, not because it had become flat but because she'd acquired a great many more dimensions than she'd previously possessed.

Wobbling on legs that felt strange (almost as if they were too long), she wrenched her gaze away from the universe under her feet. Given that she was in a room-sized bubble of clarity surrounded by the boiling flux of the Void that might not have steadied her. However, she had two other Presences sharing that clear space with her, and they caught and held her attention so fully she lost track of everything else.

They shone like two pillars of fire, one wrapped in tendrils of blazing sun-gold, the other crackling with ripples of electric blue. To her great relief, Donna realized she recognized both of them: the Doctor's Rose and the skinny spaceman himself. This was bizarre, but no more so than some other things she'd experienced with the Doctor and if _he_ was here, he'd no doubt know what was going on.

"Doctor!" she called out, and she was more disoriented than she'd thought, because her voice sounded (and felt) odd, though she couldn't pinpoint how, exactly. "Where are we?"

Rose and the Doctor had been looking at one another, gazes locked as if in silent communication, but both heads swiveled as one at Donna's words. She found herself caught by two pairs of eyes that shone from within, brighter than any of the stars in the Universe below. Donna had a sense of terrible power, of the raw forces of nature given intelligence and purpose, but before she could be more than shocked, the Doctor grinned at her.

It was his usual daft, too-wide, borderline-smug I-know-more-than-you-do expression, the one he wore at the start of adventures and that half made her want to hug him and half made her want to slap him.

"Where we've always been," he replied. "And where we always are, always have been and always will be. We-e-ll after a fashion, anyway." He reached up to tug at an earlobe while his hair, finally brought to full self-mobility by the currents of energy surrounding him, rippled and waved thoughtfully.

Rose snorted. "You've got 'textbook enigmatic' on the brain," she told him, before smiling welcome at Donna. "Don't mind him. Divinity's gone straight to his head."

"Oi!"

"Divinity?" Donna asked, moving towards the others, still unsteady. It felt like all her bones and joints had been rearranged, while at the same time everything felt normal. "Doesn't that mean . . . you _aren't_!"

"'Divinity,'" the Doctor intoned, pulling his spectacles from his suit pocket, and flicking them open one-handed before slipping them on. "The state or quality of being divine. The Godhead. A God or Goddess." He paused and blinked. "Also a chewy white candy made from egg whites, but that's not as relevant. What is relevant is that we _are_. Gods, I mean, not candy." He grinned again, removing the spectacles once their function as props to emphasize his mental brilliance was done.

"You two, Gods?" Donna sputtered. Sparkly light shows or not, she couldn't find that thought anything but funny. "Sad state the Universe is in, if that's true. No offense," she added in a quick aside to Rose. "I'm sure you'd be fine at it. But Spaceman here," she hooked a thumb in the Doctor's direction, "can't even _drive_ straight half the time."

"Believe me, I know," Rose said with dry affection.

"Don't you two feel like fighting?" the Doctor asked hopefully.

Rose edged close to the Doctor and bumped him with her shoulder, the playful gesture striking dizzying sparks and flares as their luminous auras intersected. "You'd love it if we fought over you," she said. Then, to Donna, "But we are Gods. Not just me 'n' him, either. You are too."

"Oh, now I've heard it all," Donna scoffed. "_Me?_ I'm a temp from Chiswick. People don't worship me. Dunno what that glowing stuff is you've got stuck to you, but it's making you hallucinate. Come to that, I'm probably hallucinating." There'd been something with fire, and the TARDIS, but it kept slipping away from her. It was all so distant and unimportant . . .

"There's an altar to you, in Ancient Rome," Rose said, with a sly smile. "It's a small congregation, but they believe. The Ood will be singing your song till the end of the Universe. And for what it's worth, you're glowing, too."

"Oh, I am –" Donna held up a hand in illustration, and faltered. "— Not," she finished, by sheer inertia, even though it was wrong. She _was_ glowing, her hand wreathed in a weird mix of blue and gold light that somehow kept from blending into green. Even worse, she couldn't seem to focus on her own hand; the shape of it blurred and changed. She would have thought her vision was going if she couldn't see Rose and the Doctor with almost hyper-aware clarity.

Let her hand drop, aware that her mouth was hanging open in shock. "How?" she managed to squeak.

Rose's cocked her head at the Doctor. "D'you want to explain?" she prompted him.

"It's because you're a part of me," the Doctor said. "Or I'm a part of you. Blimey, there's one for the theologians to argue over . . ." Rose bumped him with her shoulder again. "Right. Well. When you touched my old spare hand, all the excess artron energy I dumped into it crossed over to you, the TARDIS got hold of that connection and dumped in a dose of the Vortex – a bit harsh of her, but she _was_ dying, and desperate, and trapped in the middle of a bunch of Daleks and needed us to save her."

"Wait," said Donna. "So what happened with that? I don't remember any saving."

"Oh," the Doctor said with a blithe hand-wave. "That's because it hasn't happened yet, back in the mortal world."

"_What?_ D'you mean I'm still back there with flames shooting everywhere and we're just standing here _chatting_?"

The Doctor's free hand went from mid-wave into a warding-off gesture, his luminous eyes wide and a little scared. His hair flared defensively. "It's okay! It's okay! Really! Here, we _literally_ have all the time in the world. We're outside of everything – well the divine parts of us are, anyway – so it's like everything's frozen exactly where it was. Sort of. It also hasn't happened yet, and it's already over, but that's because Time's all one big wibbly-wobbly ball, so it's easiest to say _frozen_ and not worry about it."

"Yeah," Rose confirmed, acting as if she understood all that nonsense. "I've got an invading Dalek fleet I'm gonna turn to dust, but do I look worried?" She smiled and swung her and the Doctor's joined hands back and forth a little, the picture of carefree innocence.

"And I have a megalomaniac to stop and a year that never should have happened to reverse," the Doctor said with a shrug. "It'll all get done." He winked, actually winked, the cheeky bastard. "In Time."

"So how do we get back there?" Donna asked, impatience flaring. Around her, what she realized as her own (divine?) aura flared in response. "How do we take care of everything we have to do?"

"Thing is," the Doctor said, dropping his chin a fraction and raising his eyebrows. "There's no hurry. And this is a _unique_ opportunity, to say the least. Back in the mortal world, our time together will be limited. Here, we can take a little breather, share a little . . ."

"Quality time?" Rose finished, leaning into his side and smiling up at him.

"Just so," the Doctor said, beaming down at her. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too," Rose said. "But back there, not here. Never here."

The Doctor's free hand reached up to brush Rose's cheek. The touch was gentle, but ferocious swirls of blue and gold fire went coiling away from the point of contact, like the intensity of shared emotions made visible. The two of them leaned towards one another, lips parting slightly in preparation for a kiss, and Donna realized that by "quality time," Rose had meant _quality time_.

Appalled, she opened her mouth to tell them to get a room – _create_ a room, if they had to and were so bloody divine – but then their lips touched in a soundless nova of light, startling her. When it faded, Rose and the Doctor were still kissing, but their clothes were gone. The Doctor, at least, was visibly okay with that. Downright delighted, in fact.

_Oh. My. God,_ Donna thought without the slightest trace of irony as Rose and the Doctor shifted and their hands started roaming more urgently. She should be mortified, she should be looking away, she should be saying something sarcastic and offended . . . but she couldn't do any of that. All she could do was stare, and be astonished by the vast wave of desire that swept through her.

_But it's the_ Doctor,_ my skinny streak-of-nothing, hug-and-get-a-paper-cut best mate! I'm not attracted to him._

Oh, no, wait. I am._ Maybe I'm protesting too much._

And Rose - before, if you'd asked, Donna would have said that she found Rose admirable, fascinating, even a little scary. Now she would have to add the words _eminently fanciable_ and _bloody gorgeous naked_.

The Doctor was gripping Rose's bum with both hands now, holding her pelvis tightly against his and rocking his hips in a way that made Rose lift one leg to hook around his waist, a low groan rising in her throat as they locked mouths for another kiss.

Donna kept on staring and couldn't decide which one she wanted more at that moment: another first, since she'd never been much for other girls. _Is this what being divine does to you, makes you randy? No wonder Zeus was always carrying on like that._ It was taking all of her determination (and her residual embarrassment over the situation in general) to keep from moving closer, joining in, burying her hands to the wrists in the wild, twisting fire auras and brushing her palms across the skin beneath. She'd never wanted anything so badly in her life, and it wasn't just randiness. It was wanting to go home, be _whole_ . . .

As if hearing Donna's thoughts, Rose and the Doctor broke their kiss and looked at her, though their bodies remained entwined, perfectly balanced, like some graceful (if decidedly adult) piece of statuary. Blue and gold fire rippled across bare skin, beautiful and terrible, the raw stuff of life, death and Time.

"Waiting for something?" the Doctor asked, raising one eyebrow, the gesture familiar even if the eye beneath it was luminous blue from lid to lid.

Rose freed one hand from where it had been twined in the Doctor's hair (which grudgingly let her go) and held it out to Donna in open invitation.

"You're part of this, too, ytou know," she said, warm and inviting. "Part of us."

"But," Donna began, "How? Why? I mean, this isn't . . ." she trailed off, being able to articulate clealy apparently not being a benefit of divinity.

The Doctor smiled. "When you made contact with my spare hand, you touched off a metacrisis. You fused yourself to my genetic material - to me - permanently."

"What? I'm some kind of . . . mutant?" Donna sputtered.

"I could say a _lot_ of things here, but notice my restraint," the Doctor told her, just as much of a smartarse as ever. "I mean, you're now part Time Lord and part human. In fact, been noticing anything odd about your physical body here? Like everything's the same, but different?"

"How'd you know?" Donna asked, surprised, aware all over again of the weird match/mismatch sensation she'd been having.

The Doctor's smile spread into a tooth-baring grin. "Because right now you've got two bodies trying to occupy the same space. Also two personalities. Not ordinarily a very good thing, but _we_ can break a lot of rules."

The minute he said it, Donna knew he was right. All her attention had been on the others, she hadn't properly taken stock of herself. It wasn't just two bodies; there were two sets of memories, two _selves_. She wasn't just "Donna," or even properly "she," though the Donna-self was the strongest at the moment, the Other self being more quiescent (after all, he'd only been a hand's worth of himself till just now). Two hearts beat in her - zir - chest, though in a very different way than a Time Lord's would.

"I can't stay like this!" Donna said, aghast. It all felt fine _now_, but there would be trouble later, zie was sure of it. What would zie say to zir _mum_ . . .

Zie didn't dare look down at zimself, now, and was glad zie hadn't done so earlier; it was disorienting enough from the inside without having to see what was going on.

"Not within Time, no," the Doctor said, shifting slightly. Rose, taking a silent cue, unwrapped her leg from his waist and together they padded closer on bare feet. The Doctor dropped a cool, comforting hand onto zir shoulder (which was either suddenly bare, or had been all along). "You'll split apart into your separate selves, back in the Universe. It's only here that you can be truly whole."

He was right; zie could see it: all the ramifications, all the threads of two different lives, diverging from this point. There were future events that were wonderful and terrible, things involving the Doctor And Rose, but Donna barely glanced at them. They didn't mean much in this here and now, so completely outside of everything.

"No!" she said the word rising up immediately from both selves, recoiling. Disturbing as this doubled existence was, the thought of separation, of the loss that would entail, was infinitely painful. There had to be another way.

"There _is_ no other way," the Doctor said, gently, his blank, luminous eyes somehow expressing sorrow and compassion. The tendrils of his aura wreathed around his hand where it touched zir shoulder, slipping under the skin, spreading a delicious cool-burning sensation that re-awoke desire. "It's already happened, back in Time."

"Then I don't want to go back!"

Rose's hand reached to zir other shoulder, small and warm, her aura very different from the Doctor's. "I'm not looking forward to losing half or myself, either. But while we're here, we can take as long as we want." She spoke slowly, soothingly, and under her words was a hint of music, intricate and alien. Donna remembered/realized that Rose wasn't just herself here, either: she was the Bad Wolf, woman and TARDIS together. Rose smiled then, slow and sly. "And we can do whatever we want."

Back to sex again, and a new rush of desire made it hard to think. "What is this, a side effect of two sets of hormones?" Donna asked between gritted teeth. Even as zie spoke, zie automatically reached out to rest one hand on Rose's waist and one on the Doctor's, drawing them closer. The sensation of meshing energies alone, without even considering the skin contact was, well, _divine_.

"Not really," the Doctor said. "What you're _really_ feeling is the desire to connect, God-to-God. Transcendent synergy, reunification of our triple Godhead, rejoining with yourself . . . " he winked, and it was like looking in a living mirror; it was true, a part of Donna's composite self was him, and it reached out to him with longing, "The sex is just a metaphor."

"A _fun_ metaphor, though," Rose added, shooting a coy glance up at the Doctor, catching her tongue between her teeth, a familiar gesture that jolted Donna's Doctor-memories awake, along with a lot of other things.

"Well, then," Donna - and the second Doctor - said (for this moment out of Time they were truly the DoctorDonna the Ood had proclaimed), "Let's get metaphorical." Zie paused, thinking. "This'll be my first threesome. Wait, foursome. No, there's the TARDIS, too . . . How many of us _are_ there here?"

"Counting all of me, you can add in the entire population of Earth, actually," the Doctor said, sounding smug.

"Whatever. My first orgy then. Of suitably Godlike proportions. _Allons-y_, no time like the present!"

"Not just the present," the blue Doctor murmured into zir ear as zie drew the others into a three-way embrace, blue and gold auras blending and flaring up with joy, "in its own way, this is _forever._ Words have power, and you did ask for it, just like Rose."

"Best wish I ever made," Rose declared, and then discussion stopped, largely because the DoctorDonna clamped zir mouth over the Doctor's in a passionate kiss, which had the side benefit of _finally_ getting him to shut up. If it wasn't clear whether Rose's delicate, teasing, evil fingertip had slipped down to draw tiny circles on the tip of zir clit or the head of zir penis (or both at once), well, it made no difference, none at all. All that mattered was the pure pleasure, and the hand moving up to cup Rose's breast while the other moved to encircle the Doctor's waiting erection _just_ the way he liked it, and all the further amazing things three gods could do if they really put their minds (and bodies) to it.

The final shared burst of white light flared through the whole of the empty Void, so overwhelming it might have been the first, explosive moment of Time.

Maybe it was.

***

Elsewhere, Time continued and mortal stories played themselves out, full of laughter and tears and inevitable sunderings, but always in the background, never fully glimpsed or realized, there was the distant memory of a joyous union, things made whole for once and always.

Forever.


End file.
